Writing has the potential to do more than convey information; it can also help individuals process distress, identify difficult emotions, and manage personal conflict. Emily Johnston, a professor of writing studies at UC Merced, has explored how writing can build resilience—the capacity to recover from challenges. She discussed her research in a recent online essay and is working on a book about the topic.
Johnston emphasizes that writing does not need to be formal. “Maybe the feelings are too fresh and you don’t have the words yet. So write a to-do list. Write about the cup of coffee on your desk. You’re still exercising that writing muscle. ‘What are the words I’m looking for?’” she said.
She describes writing as a means of creating distance from difficult experiences, allowing people to handle them more effectively: “Writing is a tool we use to communicate, but also to process. It helps us sort out and even change our thinking.”
According to Johnston, writing interrupts immediate reactions and provides space for reflection: “Writing creates an interruption between something that’s happening and our thoughts about it. This interruption can regulate our nervous system and clarify how we want to respond. I think of writing as a disaster preventionist: It ever-so-subtly closes the emotional floodgates and keeps us from reacting.”
She explained how this process works during moments of conflict or anxiety: “Let’s say I’m in the middle of a disagreement with my partner or just remembering a heated exchange we had last week… If, instead, I pick up my journal, open my phone’s Notes app, or create a Google doc and start putting my experience into written words, I’m giving my brain something new… Writing is a way to soothe the activation I’m experiencing (heart beating faster, palms sweating, brow furrowed, etc.), allowing me to think through how I want to move through it.”
Labeling emotions—even with simple symbols—can also help calm stress responses: “From a brain perspective… pain isn’t the only damaging agent. It’s also our concepts of what that experience means.” By naming emotions with phrases or emojis, Johnston says people shift their brains away from threat detection toward meaning-making.
She continued: “For instance… in selecting a grimacing emoji… we shape a playful relationship with that frustration. Threat is dialed down.” Even strong language used in notes or messages can provide agency over confusion or distress.
Johnston believes resilience is not fixed but developed through practice: “Yes, I see resilience as something we practice every time we write. Whether it’s a postcard, a dissertation or a tenure file, we take risks and enact change.” She encourages students by noting that all forms of writing—from grocery lists to academic essays—involve risk-taking and communication.
On handwriting versus typing notes in class settings, Johnston points out cognitive differences: “Writing by hand activates a different cognitive process than typing does… Our visual systems have to work harder…” This increased engagement helps memory retention and idea connection; because handwriting is slower than typing, students must decide what information matters most—a form of real-time processing.
Despite changes in technology and communication methods leading some to believe traditional writing is fading away, Johnston argues otherwise: “Actually, writing isn’t disappearing so much as it is changing forms… We write all the time — social media, email…” She adds that literacy rates worldwide have increased significantly.
Johnston advocates for expanding definitions of writing beyond formal documents: “We also need to embrace a broader understanding of what writing does… But it also helps us regulate, think and create meaning.” Simple acts like making lists can help prioritize tasks by signaling focus shifts within the brain.
STEM students may not always see themselves as writers but benefit from recognizing its role across disciplines: “Without writing there would be no STEM disciplines…” Reports and articles are central ways knowledge circulates in science fields as well as humanities.
Reflecting on her own academic journey marked by personal hardship—including addiction and violence—Johnston found inspiration through poetry courses featuring authors who wrote candidly about trauma: “The very existence of their writing was evidence that Chrystos wasn’t consumed by trauma.” Encouraged by faculty support after returning to college following setbacks—and winning recognition for research projects—she went on to graduate school where she began teaching first-year writing classes.
